While sitting waiting for the Dometic Front Runner Explores Tour to roll through my home in the Pyrenees, I was running through my mental checklist for the 100th time. The valley I live in is surrounded by some gorgeous mountains, many of which I have climbed on my skis over the past winters. But never have I been able to drive across any. From the comfort of my VW campervan, I’ve looked up at the off-road trails longing to go and explore them.
The convoy arrives
External battery, solar panel and Dometic CFX 37L fridge - check. Water purifier - check. 12v tyre inflator, selection of hand tools, spare wheel and puncture repair kit - check. I’ve spent decades travelling and camping as a campervanner, but now I find myself behind the wheel of a Dacia Bigster, fitted with a rooftop tent and carrying all the gear I think I need for a week overlanding.
“It’s my first time heading out for a trip of this kind, and imposter syndrome is elevated as a convoy of some 18 fully rigged vehicles pull in all around me. ”
Land Rover Defenders, VW Amaroks, Jeep Wranglers and a number of other remarkable off-road vehicles arrive, each kitted out with Dometic Front Runner Series gear and covered in dirt from the kilometers they had already travelled. Suddenly, the tracks I had spent years looking at from below didn’t seem quite so distant anymore.
© Axel Telzerow
© Axel Telzerow
© Axel Telzerow
Leaving the familiar behind
Just minutes after setting off, the Dacia’s tyres left familiar tarmac for the first time. I followed the convoy onto the mountain and was absorbed into the line of vehicles before we split down to groups of four cars. Now kicking up my own dust cloud my nerves quickly settled, while still hanging onto instinctive caution.
I didn’t need to look too closely to know there was a considerable drop on one side of the trail. We were already some 1600-1700m above sea level. Careful navigation meant keeping one eye on the rutted out road, and the other eye on the vehicle in front. Some useful words of caution buzzed through the radio from the car up front. Useful warnings that ranged from wildlife in the road to boulders that needed to be avoided.
In a campervan, the journey often happens between destinations. Here, the route itself felt like the destination.
Finding your place in the group
As excited as I was to drive off into the mountains, this trip wasn’t just about the routes I had been pining over on the itinerary. It was the chance to explore new places close to home, with a completely new group of people.
Arriving at the camp ground in Andorra, I got to know the group properly. Camp cookers came out before awnings and tents, the smell of grilled meat filled the evening air, and I was more than ready for a cold beer from my fridge. As I worked out where people were from, I could also see where they had been. Country flag stickers covered many of the vehicles, some with a remarkable collection. There was a huge range of experience, but remarkably little ego.
“Conversation that night centered on routes, driving conditions and everyone’s different setups. It was the sort of social side to travelling I don’t find myself part of very often, and it felt fun to be amongst it.”
Campervanning feels more like a solitary way of travelling. While overlanding seems like it thrives on shared experience. You work through challenges together, tackling road conditions as much as vehicle problems. Earlier in the day when tyre-pressure warning appeared on my Dacia, several members of the group immediately stopped to check and advise me on better airing my tyres for the track we were on.
They were serious off-road enthusiasts, but I never felt like the newcomer I was.
© Axel Telzerow
© Axel Telzerow
© Axel Telzerow
© Axel Telzerow
© Axel Telzerow
The route smugglers once used
Local folklore has made one off-road trail in this area a certain bucket-list drive for anyone visiting the area. Known as the Smugglers Route, it’s a challenging section that starts high up in the mountains of Andorra at 2300m. The moment you cross back into Spain the tarmac simply runs out. Over the next 12km, the route drops well over 600m in altitude down to the village of Tor.
Our modern convoy carried rooftop tents, camping gear and enough supplies to spend a week in the mountains. The people who used these tracks a century before us had rather different cargo. Hidden from view, smugglers would wait for their scouts to give the all-clear, confirming the Guardia Civil could not be seen. They would then make their run into Andorra and bring back goods such as tobacco, using the challenging remote passage to their advantage.
The trail beneath our wheels carries its own story. It’s deep in the Pyrenees and far beyond the roads I normally travel. I'm in the sort of place I’ve been dreaming of exploring for a long time. Exposed on the southern slopes we slowly snake down the mountain, taking the turns carefully but also making sure to stop for photos. The views are vast and there is no one else to be seen.
While the mountains themselves were nothing new to me, the way we arrived there was. We had driven across an international border on a dirt track. There was no booth, queues or traffic. No sign saying Benvinguts a Espanya. It gave me the feeling of what the larger idea of overlanding was about as the realisation sank in.
One day with the Land Rover crew
I’d been on my own inside the Dacia for the first couple of days. Long hours spent carefully navigating the road, becoming increasingly better at picking the best line for the car to follow. I hadn’t spun the tyres nor failed to tackle an obstacle. And to be honest with myself, it was refreshing to take my mind off life in general and focus all of my attention on making it to the end point each day.
However, I was keen to find out what this sort of tour meant to the other participants. A group of friends, who had actually met on the first Dometic Front Runner Explores Tour several years earlier, invited me to join their crew. It was set to be the most ambitious day of this year’s Pyrenees Tour - covering some 150km with hundreds of metres of elevation gain. The GPX route was menacing. I gladly accepted the invitation and climbed into the passenger seat of a stealth-black Land Rover Defender 110.
Within a few short minutes we started climbing a serious incline. Sat in the vehicle as a passenger, I could feel the grunt of the powerful Defender pulling itself steadily up the track. Realising I was sitting next to someone who lives for this moment, I loosened up quickly. My mind switched from don’t damage the car to let’s see where this route will take us! My view over the dashboard and out across the bonnet, seeing another two Defenders crawl up the mountain was classic. I felt like I had just been dropped into a real expedition. The vibe reminded me just that of what the Camel Trophy could have felt like. But instead of half way around the world crossing Mongolia or Siberia, I was getting the same feeling close to home and in Europe.
“The friends chatted across the radio. Everyone was in awe of the huge views we were seeing, and stopping every now and then to pause and soak up the moment. I snapped photos on my Minolta 35mm camera, feeling like a real overland journalist on an 80’s adventure. ”
© Alex Brown
© Alex Brown
© Alex Brown
Aside from the likeness I felt of the Land Rovers, the terrain and the traditional image of overlanding, something else started to sink in. The strong friendship between this group of people. Initially they had bonded over a common appreciation and love for owning Land Rovers. Spending time on a number of overland tours, their friendships strengthened. Time behind the wheels of their overland rigs created memories. Meeting up for trips meant shared experience, seeing the world and tackling routes together. It also seemed to provide them all with the same release I had started to feel, that of an escape from normal life.
Over the course of the day I swapped between vehicles and got to know the group better. Their warmth, world views and kindness rubbed off on me. Their passion for the quintessential Land Rover Defender might have done some of the work too.
A different way of travelling
Until this trip I had always thought of myself as a campervan guy. I’ve travelled the world living out of different ones. I’m even half way through restoration of my own VW T3. But on this adventure, my route has just taken an unexpected detour.
“Coming on the Dometic Front Runner Explores Tour has introduced another possibility to how I like to see the world. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read that the journey isn’t just about the destination. But I didn’t know what that could actually mean. Pulling off the regular road and finding yourself staring at a route with no signposts, sounds like the sort of adventure I want to be having next.”
Overlanding feels more fluid. The vehicle isn’t simply the thing that gets you to the campsite for the evening, it's the multitool that makes a bigger experience possible. One where you can keep exploring far beyond the end of the road.
© Axel Telzerow
© Alex Brown
© Axel Telzerow
The road forward
I’m not sure what vehicle I’ll be driving when I set out on my next off-road adventure, but that isn’t really the point. This trip has changed what I see when I look at the map. Somewhere over the past few days, a seed has been planted at just the right time in my life. It’s leaving me excited about where the next road, or track, leads me next.
Maybe, when it comes to starting a new chapter of life, I just needed to find a different way to get there.
Get to know Alexander Brown: Advanture Magazine (opens in new tab)
